


You Ready? I'll Take That Weapon Now

by Sprocketgasmask, TilTheEndOfTheLinePal



Series: I Will Find You Again. I Promise. [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drug Use, F/M, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Hydra (Marvel), Kissing, Marvel Universe, Music, Oral Sex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Recreational Drug Use, Shameless Smut, Skateboarding, Smoking, Smut, Swearing, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:38:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2539730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sprocketgasmask/pseuds/Sprocketgasmask, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TilTheEndOfTheLinePal/pseuds/TilTheEndOfTheLinePal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You Ready? I'll Take That Weapon Now" is Part 2 (a sequel) to the story "I Will Find You Again. I Promise."  Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier.  James "Bucky" Barnes, on the run from HYDRA, finds Murphy again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Ready? I'll Take That Weapon Now

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collaborative effort between Archive of Our Own's Sprocketgasmask and TilTheEndOfTheLinePal. We do not own any characters from Captain America or Marvel. Comments and kudos are very much appreciated! We invite you to read "I Will Find You Again. I Promise," which is Part 1 in our collaborative series.

"You Ready? I'll Take That Weapon Now." 

Part 2 of "I Will Find You Again. I Promise." 

By Sprocketgasmask and TilTheEndOfTheLinePal

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/24/14

Never in a million years would The Winter Soldier’s metal hand ever be able to hold a syringe well enough for intravenous drug use. It simply couldn’t be done. A thin sheen of sweat formed on Bucky’s forehead – his teeth clenched as he growled in frustration – as he concentrated hard to inject 10 milliliters of Ketamine into his thick right bicep. 

Within two lightning fast minutes, he was guiltily (though still pleasurably) riding out his high, feeling completely detached from his body. Bucky was currently holed up in the back of a dark brick alley, behind a dumpster, his seated body firmly pressed into a corner. Upon entering the empty alley a half hour earlier, the soldier had fired a silenced shot into the alley’s one light fixture. The dark of night had consumed the alley and had consumed the soldier. 

James Buchanan Barnes’ love affair with Ketamine had begun during World War II, when the KGB, working with HYDRA, had injected him frequently before and after the multiple surgeries to attach The Winter Soldier’s highly technological robotic arm. Now, Bucky was on the run from HYDRA. 

Somewhere amidst the intense euphoric high, Bucky’s neurons managed to fire long enough for him to think of that pretty, witty dame he had had a one night stand with. It had been almost exactly two months since he had left her in the Washington, D.C. motel room, alone, leaving behind one of his beloved and precious dog tags and a note. Bucky had made a promise. And, the Army soldier never went back on his promises. 

“Murphy…” he whispered distantly into the warm summer night air, his head having fallen back against the brick. Bucky’s unblinking blue eyes glazed over and remained open. 

****** 

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/24/14

Deep in the country side of Griffin, a neat city just south of Atlanta, there stood three acres of land with a cute little trailer smack in the middle. 

Two bedrooms - three if you counted the small makeshift storage room, and an endless sense of freedom.

After that adventurous time spent with Sergeant Barnes, some pretty interesting events found Magdalena Murphy.

First was the intense aching in her chest, followed by burning tears and enough liquor consumption to cause alcohol poisoning.

It hurt, both physically and mentally, to wake to an empty bed, and the girl more or less had her first true break down since high school. 

She clutched that precious dog tag in a tight fist and set to the streets drunker than Cooda Brown, determined that she was sober enough to skateboard all the way home.

For the first time in her life, she was arrested for public intoxication, had to be stitched up thanks to a nasty fall, and made the decision to call her daddy after sobering up in the drunk tank.  
That was by far the best decision (she had come to believe) she had possibly made in the past thirteen years.

Daddy hopped a plane, paid her bail, AND sat beside her in court. 

Murphy managed a slap on the wrist and that also broke her down.

The first month was difficult with adjusting to absolutely no drama and the relief of being able to take care of her herself. It was tough moving from a state of downright homelessness to having her very own room and the option of bathing whenever she wanted. 

To be clean, skin scrubbed raw and sore, was a fucking godsend. It was embarrassing trying to snag food or the odd coin when someone could smell you a mile away. Murphy was a grungy character and even the funk was too much for her.

Within those weeks spent eating properly, she managed to gain a decent ten pounds and even she had a hard time fitting into the same green bra and pants. Her body resembled that of a real woman, of a female who had finally matured physically. Curves, real curves, that were just about fucking dangerous. 

Daddy went out and bought her some new clothes, ones that both fit well and kept to her personal style.

Sitting comfortably in a rocking chair on the front porch, Murphy mussed her own thick hair and inhaled her cigarette a bit too deeply. 

She wore a tight pair of blue jean shorts, hips accentuated rather nicely only to dive into a small waist. An old pair of brown cowboy boots graced her feet, Buck knife stuffed inside, held snuggly near her ankle. The fact that her chest was larger couldn't have been noticed due to a long sleeved, loose fitted, button up, plaid shirt.

Daddy lent her his black cowboy hat. It sat in her lap, elbow resting against the brim while a slightly dirty hand clutched Bucky's dog tag almost lovingly. The damn thing had been tied against her throat with a leather cord since the first night spent in Griffin. It dug into her skin occasionally and had even caused a small bruise. There was no way it would be lost. Having it tight around her neck made sure of that.

This day, Murphy had her thoughts set on life after that infamous night. She found a local attractive and toyed with the idea of a date. Daddy liked the guy and daddy had a sixth sense about those things. 

Hitting that smoke once more, she stared off into space, mind sliding straight to that night.

*****

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/24/2014

Usually, Bucky awoke from a Ketamine high to find himself in the exact same position and place he had been at the time of injection. Maybe a little hungry, a little thirsty. Definitely needing to take a piss. 

This time, however… This time was different. 

Sergeant Barnes rapidly ascended into consciousness. He awoke with a brutal gasp and blinked over and over again, his eyes trying to get used to a blaring artificial light. Though it took him a moment to gain his bearings, the soldier figured out that he was hanging from his wrists, his heavy boots dangling a few inches off the cement. A long chain hung from a metal rafter. Testing his restraint, Bucky thought fast and tried desperately to use that robotic arm of his. The technological arm was completely useless – whoever had him tied up had enough brains to have disabled it with an impossibly complex electrode. 

“Welcome back, Sergeant Winter,” a voice called from below. 

Looking down, Bucky met eyes with Brock Rumlow, an agent of HYDRA who had recently devoted his entire life to capturing Captain America. His blue eyes narrowed, Bucky sarcastically muttered to the familiar agent, “You’re lookin’ real good there, Crossbones.” 

Rumlow shook his head a little, irritated. “You’re in no position to be a jackass, Winter.” The HYDRA agent had barely survived the fateful explosions in that impressive office building in Washington, D.C. Really, not only was it a miracle he had survived, but it was also doubly impossible that he was already back at work. So, so devoted to HYDRA. So dedicated. And, now, so scarred. 

“How’d you find me?” Bucky asked, getting right to the point. He wasn’t interested in any clever ‘foreplay’ in this conversation. 

Brock laughed through his nose. “Really?” He laughed again as he picked up an empty vial of Ketamine. “How long did you think you could hide from HYDRA? Your little addiction caught up to you. Did you think your drug dealers wouldn’t squeal on you?” 

Frustrated, Bucky let his head fall back. “Fuck…” he mumbled under his breath.

“You gotta be more careful,” Brock pressed. “Not too many residents of K-land have a metal arm, you know.” 

Bucky looked forward again, his long brown hair falling in his face. “What do you want from me?” 

Rumlow nodded and gave his victim a little grin. He held up the mug shot of a woman who had been arrested for public intoxication; he showed the picture to Bucky. “You owe HYDRA. A lot. Bionic arms aren’t cheap. And, I’ve got a little insurance policy in place. You wanna make a deal, Sarge?” 

The Winter Soldier stared straight ahead, his face expressionless, his eyes dark. “What did you have in mind?” 

******

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/25/2014 

"Well fuck me runnin' stupid." Yet another one of daddy's sayings were falling out of Murphy’s mouth. She was a daddy's girl, so it was fairly easy to fall into habit.

Ammo, her father's mixed-bag-of-genetics sheep dog, trotted on up to the porch with a twitching rabbit hanging from his jaws. Blood smeared along his muzzle, eyes wide with that fluffy tail going about a mile a minute, and he couldn't have looked more pleased with himself. 

Congratulating the family pet for his hard work and successful hunt only seemed fair. He was allowed to crunch away at the dead animal right next to the rocking chair, tail pounding against the wooden boards. 

The day was turning out to be a for sure peaceful one with some alone time while daddy worked his nine-to-five junk yard job. He had been there for more than five years and hadn't a single plan to head elsewhere. 

Pushing up from the seat, Murphy carefully grasped the cowboy hat and plopped it snuggly onto her head. She bent to reposition the worn bowie knife in her boot when the sound of tires crunching gravel snatched her attention. 

Raising a brow, hands resting on her hips, she watched as an older pickup truck came right along up the driveway to stop carefully near the front porch. 

She didn't recognize the vehicle or the driver until the shiny red door popped open and the driver hopped out.

Blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and a smile that went on for days. Alex. The local.

Murphy couldn't help but to share the smile, rocking back onto the balls of her feet, brows high up. The man couldn't have been any older than thirty. He was young, well-mannered, and every bit the type of man her daddy approved of. Distractions always helped with the mental battle. After years of fantasy, it was hard to get past a one-night stand with one of the two men of her dreams. 

"Afternoon, ma'am." Alex had that deep-voiced southern drawl, the type that men had in those old school romance movies. 

She did not go unaffected. "Hey there, stranger. Watcha doin' here?"

The twinkle in his green eyes took full attention. 

"You wanna go out dancin' tonight?"

Murphy nearly lost her carefully-placed balance. She stood still, nails digging into her jean shorts. This man obviously didn't care about her devotion to two war heroes. 

"I already asked yer daddy. He didn't mind none."

*Motherfu--*

Murphy went out with Alex. She dressed like a southern girl, blue jeans and all, and actually enjoyed herself.

He was the perfect gentleman. Didn't even try to cop a feel as they danced together in little circles. It was when they were headed back home that he started in an actually different direction that she got nervous.

Hitting the half-dead smoke, she stared ahead to the gravel road and nearly choked when they quickly turned down an old dirt road. Fields were covering the entire area. Not a soul in sight. Not even the random cow.

It seemed as though Alex sensed her worry. "Just gunna watch the stars. I respect you and ya daddy too much. 'Sides, I ain't that kind of man."

Lying in the bed of his truck, stars bright as heaven, Murphy forgot about life itself. She was at complete peace and this guy didn't fuck it up. He only watched with a smile on his lips, eyes rolling to gaze at her every now and then. This, she could do.

*****

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/25/14

Oddly enough, The Winter Soldier was enamored with hard rock music. Sure, he enjoyed popular hits from the thirties and forties, but there was something about metal and rock ‘n roll that just appealed to him. He had consumed so much music over the decades, when he was actually awake and not in a cryo state. Other than illicit drug use, music was Bucky’s only form of escape, especially when he was locked in his room at a KGB bunker, ordered to study languages and weaponry. Bucky could speak and read multiple languages with varying levels of fluidity, including English, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Russian, Latin, Japanese, and French. 

Bucky fiddled with a very old school iPod, searching for a good song, like a kid in a candy store trying to figure out what delicious treats to buy with his 5 cent allowance. The Winter Soldier never carried any electronic device that would even remotely allow someone to find him, to track him – an old iPod was perfectly suited for his musical needs. Finally, satisfied with his music endeavor, Bucky returned his attention to his newfound assignment. He had never really taken his focus off of his target, but now his entire mind and body was ready. Strangely, Bucky sang quietly along with his iPod.

“Maybe in another life, I could find you there.”

Licking his bottom lip softly in concentration, Bucky loaded his Dragunov sniper rifle with an untraceable cartridge (Снайперская Винтовка системы Драгунова образца 1963 года). 

“Pulled away before your time, I can’t deal it’s so unfair.”

Bucky lay on his belly on a rooftop and peered down his rifle’s high-powered scope. 

“And it feels, and it feels like, Heaven’s so far away.”

There was ‘The Asset’s’ mission- at the other end of the scope - that *motherfucker* The Winter Soldier had pulled out of the Potomac River.

“The world has grown cold, now that you’ve gone away.”

Sergeant Winter was the best assassin in the world, quite possibly of all time. Bucky took in a deep breath, let it out slowly through pursed lips, and then took in another breath as he placed his fingertip on the trigger. 

In the middle of releasing his second breath, a voice rang out only in Winter’s mind: “Cuz I’m with you, ‘til the end of the line, pal.” 

“Oh, *Fuck*!” Bucky cried out painfully, letting go of his Dragunov and rolling away from the sniper rifle. The soldier stood far too rapidly and consequently vomited everything he had eaten for dinner that night. 

Then, Bucky did something he hadn’t done since he was 12 years old. He wept. 

Almost 24 hours later, Bucky crouched next to the trailer porch situated on those 3 quaint acres of land in Griffin, Georgia. He guessed that he had been waiting, concealed in the dark, for about two and a half hours, when he finally heard the red pickup truck bounding along the gravel road leading up to the trailer. 

Bucky glanced down at Ammo, who was deeply asleep beside him, and briefly scratched behind the dog’s ear. Though dogs couldn’t exactly smile, it seemed as though Ammo was supremely happy in dreamland. The Winter Soldier had drugged the poor dog; Ammo wouldn’t be awake for another hour or so. 

The soldier grunted uncomfortably, fiddling with the rolled sleeve of his shirt. He was wearing civilian clothes (which he hated) – a white long-sleeved button-up shirt with blue stripes, dark blue jeans with heavy metal chains hanging off the side, his normal black boots, and one World War II dog tag hanging from his neck. Though he had taken a super fast shower – reminiscent of his Army days – in a Motel 6, Bucky hadn’t exactly had time to take off all of that black makeup covering his eyes. 

Bucky purposefully slowed his breathing, his eyes now focused solely on the scene unfolding before him. 

Completely unaware of The Winter Soldier’s presence, Alex politely showed Murphy to the door. Bucky’s chest tightened as he listened to the couple’s playful and light conversation. Apparently, according to Murphy, she had had a great time and wanted to see Alex again. The dancing, the long summer night conversation, and the star gazing were just what she had wanted. 

And, then, Bucky remembered HYDRA. 

As soon as Alex gently leaned in for a good night kiss, Bucky tore from his hiding spot, grabbed the back of Alex’s shirt, spun him around, and knocked his ass out with a single right roundhouse punch. It was absolutely fortuitous that The Winter Soldier didn’t use his metal fist. Otherwise, the poor southern gentleman might have been dead. 

***** 

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/25/14

"What in the actual fuck?!" The first and only thing that burst from Murphy’s lips as she watched her date bite the dust. Alex went down like a sack of potatoes and, at first, she was trying to figure out where her daddy hid his truck. 

Standing dead still, heart hammering from the combination of adrenaline and alcohol, she rolled her glazed eyes from the body to the attacker. 

Her heart stuttered. Words couldn't even be formed, just an overwhelming amount of emotional chaos.

Anger won that battle.

It was true that Murphy hit like a man, and also a fact that she would act on impulse. 

Somewhere in her foggy brain, the fact that Bucky Barnes was a super soldier failed to make its appearance. 

Her knuckles hadn't stung so badly in years and she stumbled after making contact with a thick skull. 

"What the fuck, Bucky?! Seriously! Just what the fuck!? If my daddy comes home and..and.. what am I supposed to tell him? Alex didn't do shit wrong! He-he was being a decent date! Am I supposed to be celibate forever? It's not like I could find anyone who would take your place in that fucking department! Fuckin'arightmywristhurts!" 

Her mind was a cluster fuck, pain shooting through her hand, making its way to the shoulder. The words just flowed freely. Alcohol did that to her. But he knew that.

For what seemed to be hours, yet what was actually a whole minute, she held her own wrist protectively against her chest and tried to make sense of it all. 

Then as if a switch had been flipped, she shot her gaze to his face and grit her teeth. "I didn't think you'd actually leave. That kind of shit fucks with a girl’s head." An almost loving look was showing in those eyes. She wanted to put a bullet in his head and hug him at the same time.

Then something hit her. A realization. "Where's the dog?" Ammo hadn't come bounding around like he usually did.

*****

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/25/14

Holy shit did she hit like a man, though. Sure, he was a super soldier, but Bucky still stumbled back a small step, his normal hand going to a surprisingly suddenly bleeding lip. He listened, all right, to Murphy’s rant and tried a couple of times to interrupt, only to be silenced by a new barrage of furious phrases and questions. 

Bucky licked his bleeding bottom lip, most definitely tasting blood. “Alright! Alright!” the soldier finally exclaimed. He was on the clock and had to act fast. “Look, your Dad’s fine, okay? He got a call from his best friend… Something about watching the game or something…” Bucky paused, feeling a little guilty for having spied on Murphy’s Dad. Spying was just something professional assassins did. 

Unconsciously, Bucky held his dog tag in his right hand. He continued to try to explain himself. Looking down at poor (hopelessly unconscious) Alex, he muttered, “Yeah, and, really, Murph? Really…? This guy?” Bucky gave Murphy an incredulous look. The soldier shook his head, long brown hair falling into his face. “I can shoot him up with the same drug I gave your dog, if you want. He’ll wake up feeling like a million bucks…” 

“Here… let me take a look at that,” Bucky concluded, taking a step towards Murphy, his metal hand tentatively reaching for her hurt wrist. 

As far as having to justify why Bucky left Murphy all alone in the Washington, D.C. motel room… Sergeant Barnes wasn’t yet ready to explain and address that situation. 

*****

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/25/2014

The instant that gleaming metal hand reached for her wrist, Murphy jerked her head around and snarled. "I will cut your fucking balls off, Barnes." She may have been hurt, but her emotions were doing that roller coaster thing and anger flared again. Was he really dogging her choices?

"I'll have you know that this guy is decent! He didn't even touch my ass! Didn't even try! Held doors open for me, paid for dinner. Dude, you and I fucked, cuddled, and I woke up to a cold bed." She was just as any other pissed off woman would be; ready to make him hurt like she did. Fuck the circumstances. 

"And to top off this dick stain of a mess, you drugged the dog! He would have licked you to death! Ammo doesn't know a single stranger!" A deep throb started in her hand and she knew something wasn't right. Hissing, Murphy pushed past the entire situation and used her good hand to open the screen door, then jiggled the knob of the wooden door until it popped open. "Come on, Sergeant. I may be losing my mind."

Stepping onto the faux hardwood floor, her dirty boots left a trail and she really didn't care at that particular moment. Daddy was gone, which meant he probably wouldn't even be back until the morning. His friend threw great game parties which included soul food and plenty of beer. PBR, if she remembered correctly. 

The kitchen light was on, giving enough of a glow for Murphy to navigate the area. She didn't even try to wait up. Didn't even care if he followed. Wasn't like she would hear him anyway, he had years to practice his walk. 

Another bit of his little rant hit her conscious mind and she shouted out. "Why do you care what guy I'm with anyway?! You didn't lay claim, hoss." There was that hurt pride. It screamed at her at a torturous volume, stinging both ears and mushy brain. The throbbing was quickly breaking ground, reaching the base of her skull. Daddy was going to flip. 

*****

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/25/2014

Bucky sighed deeply, all the way from the bottom of his diaphragm, as his shoulders fell. Though he really truly had only known Murphy for (technically) a day, there was something about the way she called him ‘Sergeant’ that really put The Winter Soldier in his place. Yes, he was the world’s top assassin. He was a super soldier. A World War II veteran. Hell, even a HYDRA agent. Kind of. But, bloody hell, was he suddenly smacked into submission. 

The soldier stared down at his victim, Alex, for a short while before walking into the trailer, trailing after Murphy sheepishly. Alex would be fine, he reasoned. Maybe a little headache later. Okay, maybe a big headache. Then again, Barnes thought, he probably should shoot Alex up; as he walked to the kitchen (indeed his footsteps deathly silent), Bucky gave a serious consideration to drawing up a fresh syringe. 

“Maybe I’m the one who needs it,” Bucky muttered under his breath, to himself, referring to that ‘wake-up-feeling-like-a-million-bucks’ drug. 

Blinking in the kitchen light, Bucky literally held his breath and busied himself by opening the freezer to retrieve an ice cube tray. Afraid to say anything, he let Murphy fume and cracked the ice out of the tray before placing a few cubes into an old dish cloth. 

Taking a tremendous leap of faith, The Winter Soldier approached Murphy and carefully held the makeshift ice pack to her injured wrist, which was still being protectively guarded against Murphy’s chest. Bucky took a moment to study Murphy – at first, doing a kind of sneaky assassin/KGB spy kind of assessment (all physical and psychological), but then progressed to a deeper, heartfelt assessment. The kind of thinking that someone who is … in love … would do. 

Bucky noted the flared nostrils, the tensed muscles, the actual literal heat coming off of Murphy’s body. He could smell a combination of liquor, cigarettes, breath mints, and artificial orange spray off of her. The soldier found that he liked that smell. He had missed it. A lot. 

The Winter Soldier swallowed hard as his heart made a fearful leap in his chest. How many dignitaries, exactly, had he assassinated in the past 70 years? And, now, a woman was making his heart flutter in fear? 

He leaned forward a little and just barely brushed his lips against Murphy’s. “You’re alright,” he whispered, his breath exceedingly hot. Bucky gave Murphy a feather-light kiss. “You’re okay,” he mumbled against her mouth. 

***** 

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/26/2014

The very moment that cold dish rag came into contact with her overly-heated wrist, Murphy sucked in a breath so quickly that she nearly choked on the burn. The air burned as it zipped past her smoke-abused throat and slammed into her constricted lungs. 

He was close, too close for her brain to slap any witty comments to tongue, and she was reduced to a fleshy ball of overreacting nerves.

The soldier’s lips were just as she remembered them; hot, blood-filled, and illegally soft. A dangerous combination according to her inner thoughts. It truly was a lost battle before it had even begun.

Having at least four working brain cells, she used her good hand to push at his solid chest. Even beneath the cloth, her palm could clearly feel years of carefully conditioned muscle. Fuck.

Taking a brief moment to attempt to collect her thoughts, Murphy’s eyes rolled straight to his own and the black smudges only drug her further under the current. His own intense orbs were standing out so perfectly against whatever bit of stage paint he used. They should have held residence on the face of a wolf, too vibrant to even attempt human status.

Sucking in yet another mouthful of air, Magdalena made quick work of her painfully dry lips with a wet muscle only to dig her teeth into the tip before it could even slide back into the cradle of her jaw. 

"James…" she whispered, looking utterly lost.

Murphy wanted to be mad. She needed to lash out against her Hero and have him understand just how far south this was going to go if they weren't careful. 

Her temper obeyed and flared and she acted like a child by slapping at his hand holding the ice filled rag.

"What the hell have you even been doing these past two months?” she deftly turned on heel, stepping forth towards her small bedroom. "And don't you dare lie to me. If you’re comfortable enough to spend a night with me, then you sure as hell should be comfortable enough to fess up. I deserve to know something.” 

*****

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/26/2014

Bucky Barnes waited until Murphy was out of sight, out of earshot, and out of the kitchen and on her way to her bedroom, before gritting his teeth and balling up both of his fists as hard as he could, both his blood pressure and body temperature spiking. “Please, please do not call me ‘James’,” he muttered in perfect Russian. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he could hear Georgia’s summer cicadas trilling their nightly song. 

Abandoning the homemade ice pack, Bucky soundlessly followed Murphy into her bedroom. The soldier was extremely good at keeping a running clock in his head. Though he typically had nerves of steel (when “working in the field” as he believed he was doing at the moment), he was slowly starting to come undone. Time was a precious commodity – one he couldn’t possibly afford to keep losing. One that Murphy – though she didn’t know it yet – couldn’t keep losing, either. 

Bucky tentatively tested his lower lip with his tongue for a moment, finding that his tiny wound had stopped bleeding. He had a nasty habit of perpetually checking for his weapons. He lightly patted the weapons he had stolen from HYDRA – the .45 semiautomatic strapped under his right arm, the Yarygin pistol tucked in the small of his back, and the folding knife concealed in his left hip pocket. The soldier performed this ritual about every 20 minutes. 

Satisfied with the check, Bucky took a moment to take in Murphy’s body. He tried to make it look as though he was just casually looking around the room, but he did, in fact, get distracted by Murphy’s newfound healthy curves. He liked them. Quite a bit. For one fleeting moment, he had a furious debate in his head as to whether or not to slap her ass. Clearly that was a bad idea, his brain finally concluded. That would have definitely been pouring gasoline onto the fire. 

“For the past two months, I’ve been hiding from HYDRA,” he finally admitted truthfully, avoiding Murphy’s eyes like the plague. “And, getting high,” he added. “Off my ass.” 

Though Murphy opened her mouth to begin a new (yet completely justified) tirade, Bucky cut her off. “Magdalena…” he said slowly. Murphy had never given Bucky her first name, but the soldier suddenly knew a few things about her, thanks to HYDRA informants. “There’s a whole lotta shit going on right now. Your hero? Captain America? He may be the only one who can save us.” 

****** 

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/26/2014

Murphy instantly froze, her jaw clamping shut so quickly that her teeth rattled. She swallowed thickly, muscles straining against an invisible lump. Captain America? Steven Grant Rogers?  
The flush hit before she could will it away and if that wasn't embarrassing enough, her speech stuttered along. "A-are you serious?" Those words broke into a full on whine. 

The sting in her jaw paled in comparison to the horrible thoughts racing in her head. She was going to be around both? The Winter Soldier and America's golden boy? 

This was going to test everything she though she knew about herself because her thoughts were quickly fading into that of an insanely excited fangirl. 

"When do we leave?" The words were out too quickly and she hoped he didn't notice the war going on.

It was positively true that Bucky Barnes flooded her chest with near confusing emotion. Steve, however… well, that was another extreme. The girl worshipped that star spangled man with every fiber in her being. She couldn't help it! Captain America came first in her devotion. Murphy couldn't have been more than four the first time her eyes were gazing at a brightly colored poster at the local comic shop. Everyone tended to be all about Steve. Bucky was a sidekick and regardless of his deeply set hooks, she would have cut her own right hand off to stand in the same city as Captain America, much less the same room. 

Swallowing once again, a bit slower than the last, she headed straight for the closet to pick through clothing.

HYDRA? Sadly, an afterthought.

Shoving hangers wildly about, metal scraping against an already worn pole, Murphy began the questions. "Explain HYDRA and do tell what you've been using to get high. If it's a necessity, I can find something to help out. Unless you need that particular drug to keep you going." The girl had her own shady past, so she really didn't feel like judging. Had no right to when it came down to it.

"Don't call me Magdalena. You're not my daddy and I don't get off like that. I know you're older and all-" the thought broke off as more worries settled into place. 

Just how dangerous was this entire situation? Where could she get her own weapon? Would prison be the end all? She needed a smoke.

*****

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/26/2014

Murphy’s dramatic 180 degree shift in *everything* - demeanor, attitude, body language – literally made The Winter Soldier dizzy for an agonizing moment. What the hell just happened?!  
It didn’t take Bucky all that long to figure it out. This was Peggy Carter in a smokin’ hot red dress all over again. In a deep, dark corner of his mind, Bucky could hear, ‘It’s my worst nightmare. I’m becoming you.’ Sergeant Barnes had said that to Captain Rogers so long ago when Peggy had ignored Bucky’s flirtatious advances and had, instead, invited Steve to go out dancing. 

So very, very long ago. 

Where to start? 

Bucky cleared his throat. “Then don’t call me ‘James’.” His speech came out much more aggressive and mean than he had originally planned, but jealousy did in fact rear its ugly head. And, The Winter Soldier didn’t handle jealousy all that well. 

Clearly deflated, Bucky added cruelly, “What do you need extra clothes for? Seriously. I wouldn’t have imagined that a homeless girl would be all that concerned with stuff all of a sudden.”  
Bitterness crawling in his chest, Bucky snatched a pack of Murphy’s Marlboros off of her nightstand and didn’t hesitate to light up a cigarette. Bucky ignored, for the moment, Murphy’s questions about HYDRA and about his love-hate relationship with illicit drugs. 

As if the homeless jab wasn’t bad enough, the sergeant brought up a new bone to pick with Murphy. “And what about your lover boy out there? That perfect ‘Alex’?” he spat the words out. “You just gonna leave him out there, all knocked out, to go after your beloved Captain America?” 

His entire body tense, Bucky took a long drag from the cigarette. The soldier only smoked when he was really stressed out. The KGB and HYDRA hadn’t afforded him the luxury of smoking in the past – it interfered with the chemicals they used to put The Winter Soldier in a cryogenic state. 

****

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/26/2014

As Bucky's words rattled around in that sobering head of hers, she could only remember a single warning from childhood. Like a dog chasin' a bone.

She wasn't anyone's bone.

Murphy grit her teeth so harshly that her jaw popped and pain blossomed at the left side of her face. Her nostrils flared and she wouldn't give him the fight she was sure he wanted. 

Abandoning the clothes altogether, her feet moved lightly along the floor until he was towering her height. Reaching up with that injured hand, she plucked the cigarette free and carefully bent to snub it out into an ashtray on her nightstand. It didn't stop at the simple snub. The smoke became nothing more than a burning pile of shredded paper and tobacco. 

‘Fuck you’, her eyes read loud and clear, pain sinking into the joints of her right hand.

Keeping her mouth shut tightly, Murphy left the room and entered the kitchen quickly. A pot was retrieved from under the sink and filled with ice cold water from the tap. It hurt to do things at that pace and she refused to show a sign of weakness. 

Struggling only briefly, the filled pot was carried outside, screen door slamming into place, and all contents were poured onto the body sprawled across the porch.

The sight honestly made her day.

Alex woke instantly, sputtering like a drowning man. He was wide eyed and standing one moment, then clutching his face and staring like he'd seen a ghost.

Those lips opened up and Murphy shook her head, falling into an award-winning act. "You best get out of here!" she shouted, pot dangling from her fingers from a single handle. "Daddy parked his truck around the back and swung on you the moment he saw us trying to kiss. That man's insane! Get going before he comes back!" Her face was flushed, eyes widened, pupils dilated. The pain in her hand caused a trembling in that plump bottom lip and he could have sworn she was afraid rather than hurt.

Giving a quick nod, he was flying down the driveway and screeching down the road within twenty seconds. 

"Thank fuck," she sighed, taking the pot back to its place under the sink. 

Walking to her bedroom, she snarled, "I have to change and really don't want you in here."

*****

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/26/2014

Bucky breathed hard through his nose, long breaths escaping after increasing intervals of holding his breath. The Winter Soldier was pissed. He should have been worried about HYDRA, about the ultimatum Brock Rumlow had made concerning Captain America. Murphy and Bucky were in grave danger, but the soldier completely let his guard down and let emotion dominate him. 

It was one thing to see Murphy all giddy and flirty with Alex, but it was a completely different story with her adoration of Captain America. According to the comic books, Bucky Barnes was Cap’s sidekick. A teenager who lived in Steve Rogers’ shadow - always helpful, ever vigilant. Within the past two months, The Winter Soldier had had the occasional opportunity to study those comic books more carefully (pouring through the pages at bookstores) and had laughed at the portrayal of Bucky Barnes, according to Stan Lee. Sometimes, real life was stranger than a comic book. 

“Oh, you want me to leave?” Bucky growled fiercely, standing in the doorway leading to Murphy’s bedroom. He blocked the door with his body and, when Murphy tried to push past him, the soldier firmly pressed his metal palm against the doorframe, preventing her from entering the bedroom. Bucky’s maddening blue eyes trailed over Murphy’s sexy curves, his gaze eventually coming to a stop at seeing his dog tag fastened with a leather cord around Murphy’s neck. 

Sergeant Barnes touched normal fingertips to the dog tag hanging from Murphy’s neck. Without really thinking about what he was saying, he whispered distantly, “You still have it…” 

Pure jealousy of Captain America viciously resurfaced again in Bucky’s mind. He suddenly wrapped his normal arm around Murphy’s waist, yanking her body firmly up against his. His metal hand continued to grip the wooden doorframe – indeed, he wasn’t thinking of his own strength and the wood cracked and splintered only very slightly. Bucky’s soul-piercing gaze toggled slightly as he studied Murphy’s pretty eyes. He was interested in her pupils, specifically; he was searching for an involuntary biological response indicative of pleasure and lust.  
Bucky was searching for validation. He wanted to be Murphy’s hero. 

Leaning slightly forward, Bucky’s eyes closed only halfway. Traces of the black makeup he used to help hide the very whites of his eyes during assassination missions were even more noticeable. He began to dirtily tease Murphy, repeatedly bringing his lips very, very close to hers, only to pull back again with a wicked little laugh from the back of his throat.  
Bucky was absolutely lost in how good Murphy’s gorgeous body felt against him. His lust only deepened with each passing second. 

**** 

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/26/2014

"Goddamnit, Bu-" words dissolved quickly into twitching lips and a speedy pulse. The alcohol was barely touching the edges of her mind and she could no longer blame anything on booze. His soft lips and throaty chuckle only made her body clench, insides scalding with a desire that she had been trying to bury.

Caught up in those intense eyes, Murphy briefly forgot how to breathe. Yet another lost battle before it had even begun.

Ignoring the pain in her hand, she reached both to his face and held gently, only long enough to fight his hold so her body could be pushed further up. Standing on tip toes, boots biting into her skin, she rubbed slow circles into his cheeks with her thumbs, debating on the best route. 

He had been cruel earlier. Said some downright hurtful things and she wanted to have him submit for penance. 

"Bipolar fuck." Her words were more in frustration than anything else. Murphy liked him. Therefore, an impression just had to be made. That soft left hand slid along until her fingers brushed the hair at the nape of his neck. 

She struck like a snake.

Murphy took a handful of hair between her fingers and jerked back hard enough to have the line of his neck showing perfectly in the dim room lighting. Some men needed the pain. She was sure this applied to The Winter Soldier. "I won't be your bone, Bucky. You haven't earned that yet."

*****

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/27/2014

“Oh fucking hell!” Bucky cried out loudly upon deliciously feeling his long brown hair being pulled. His eyes rolled back and fluttered closed just for a moment as vivid sparks exploded before his eyes, a loud moan falling from parted lips. 

That poor doorframe now had permanent damage from where his metal hand had been. Bucky let go of the doorframe and immediately released Murphy. Though his head was still pulled far back, he managed to blindly reach down and pull at Murphy’s plaid shirt, pulling the shirttails out of her sexy tight blue jeans. He started to properly unbutton his best girl’s shirt, but having one robotic hand didn’t really allow for dexterous endeavors, so, frustrated and impatient, the soldier ripped open Murphy’s shirt, a few buttons rattling to the faux hardwood floor.

Reluctantly pulling his head forward again, Bucky licked his bottom lip in anticipation as he took just one fucking moment to stare at Murphy’s gorgeous body, loving the curve of her breasts and the look of that cute navel above the waist of her jeans. 

He wanted her. No, scratch that. He needed her. 

Painfully aware of his sudden hard on, Bucky gave a low growl and pulled at Murphy’s jeans with his metal hand, his normal hand slipping under her shirt to caress her side. 

Long, cold Russian winters had conditioned The Winter Soldier; his internal temperature was off-the-fucking-charts crazy high. His heart rate took off as he panted heavily. 

“What the fuck, Murph… How do you possibly drive me so fucking crazy, huh? What the fuck is the matter with you?” Bucky’s voice was deep and wild. 

On pure instinct, Sergeant Barnes pulled Murphy’s shirt off of her left shoulder. He trailed his hot, wet tongue over her shoulder before suddenly biting into her flesh. There was absolutely nothing gentlemanly about his bite. It was fierce and just slightly bordering on cruel. 

Bucky somehow managed to make a quick mental note concerning Murphy's new scar. Russian spies concerned themselves with shit like that.

****

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/27/2014

The pain from The Winter Soldier’s bite did more than cause pain to blossom around the area. Heat exploded in Murphy’s center, stars went off behind her tightly closed lids, moisture pooled between her thighs, and she hit THAT breaking point. 

Gathering every last bit of strength in her form, she jerked harshly and broke free of that hold. It hurt, to say the least, and she was damn sure he broke skin. That was perfectly acceptable given the situation. 

No matter how many years the flooring had been in place, no matter how scuffed and soft it seemed, the faux wood felt more like concrete when she dropped to her knees and began shoving his shirt up.

Her injured hand was forgotten about as she pulled at his belt, tongue poking free at the corner, brows knitted in concentration. He wasn't allotted a fuck without her touching first.

****

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/27/2014

Every man fantasized about moments like these when jerking off. Though Bucky was not an ordinary man, he was still no exception. His mouth dropping open a little in shock, he could only stare blankly at Murphy and intently watched her as she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his dark blue jeans, and took his hard, overheated cock into her warm, sweet mouth. Winter didn’t even blink his eyes as Murphy sucked on him. It was the dirtiest fucking thing that had happened to him in years. 

Never taking his eyes off of Murphy, Bucky began to undress himself. He unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off, and shrugged off the leather shoulder holster holding one of his guns – the gun dropped to the floor, making a satisfying ‘thunk’. Bucky then placed his second gun on the table next to the doorframe. He was still wearing a black tank top, his jeans, and his boots. 

“You’re a dirty fucking whore, you know that?” Bucky growled quietly through clenched teeth. “You know, fuckin’ ‘Captain America’ couldn’t fuck you like I can.” He paused for a moment, allowing himself a deep moan as Murphy continued to blow him. Jealousy clearly evident in his angry, lustful tone, Bucky continued, “Yeah, Steve couldn’t fuck your tight little cunt as hard as I can… Mmm… God, yes…” 

Sergeant Barnes grasped the back of Murphy’s head with his normal hand, his metal arm lazily hanging at his side. He began to slowly fuck Murphy’s hot mouth, his hips rocking back and forth; he could feel the head of his cock repeatedly hit the back of her throat. He began a new tirade, “Captain America is a little pussy. Always so fucking polite to everyone. Mm… fuck yeah, baby, don’t stop… Those goddamn comic books don’t tell the truth – I saved Steve’s ass over and over again. Finished his fights for him…” 

Bucky’s thrusts became harsher and faster. Panting and sweating, so fucking close to coming, he uttered breathlessly, “You’re my girl, you got that? Alright, Murph? Okay? Your little cunt is mine, alright? I don’t give a fuck what you think about Captain America… Oh, shit… Oh, FUCK! UGH!” 

Throwing his head back in ecstasy, Bucky thrust his hips forward one more time before coming hard in Murphy’s mouth. He gazed up at the ceiling for a moment, his chest heaving. He honestly couldn’t remember ever having a harder orgasm.

**** 

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/28/2014

After having fantasies for the better part of her life, Murphy could openly admit that she didn't expect what the Sergeant dished out. 

He was a beautifully twisted creature in his distinct throes of pleasure and she couldn't help the doubled effort in her giving. 

It was just a tad difficult to breathe with such hot flesh slamming into her throat; breathing through the nose was impossible when the entire airway was blocked. There was too much saliva pooling and so much blood rushing that the tears felt cold. 

Her eyes leaked as she choked like a pitiful mess, heart hammering to its own beat. 

Briefly, Murphy wanted to fuck. Then she realized just how important this moment could have been for the soldier and pleasing him became her mission.

He didn't last as long as she thought. That was somewhat relieving because she couldn't have kept this up all night.

Then, he came and she struggled to swallow without making a complete mess of the situation.

Sitting back on her haunches, mind reeling, Murphy wiped carefully and let his words sink in.

The way he went on made him sound like a man who was far more important in the grand scheme of things.

Like he was bitter and all of that was thanks to people who really didn't know. 

The question was 'What should they have known?'. All in due time, she assured herself, tongue swiping along her teeth only register that bitter taste. 

"When's the last time you actually jerked off?" There went that brain to mouth filter once again. "You sure did come a lot. I mean, I nearly choked on it."

Paws on faux wood pulled her attention from Bucky. She lit up, shoving herself to her feet, meeting that furry guy just at the bedroom door. "Ammo! Thank god." The dog whimpered happily so, feet scampering around in his dance. Murphy was relieved and he deserved some kind of treat for having to put up with everything.

Heading towards the kitchen, legs just a bit shaky, she licked at her lips and stated the obvious. "We should leave soon. My daddy would probably shoot you if he happened to come home early."

As soon as her hand was on the refrigerator door, she came to understand the extent of his biting. Dried blood caked over a small wound, skin puffed and painted a dark pink. "I suppose this is your way of marking territory?" 

****

**Bucky** TilTheEndOfTheLinePal 10/28/2014

Sighing heavily, Bucky zipped up his jeans and hurriedly dressed himself again, obsessively checking to see that his guns were loaded before strapping them back onto his body. He felt physically satisfied, but the gravity of the situation, as brought on by threats from HYDRA, quickly seeped into his mind again. That gnawing sense of worry returned to the forefront of his brain and, though The Winter Soldier had had fun teasing Murphy and had been so fucking excited being dirty and wonderfully naughty with her, a taciturn, business-like attitude overtook him again. 

Murphy was absolutely correct. They had to get out of there. 

Bucky’s breath caught in his chest as he pondered to himself, ‘How far *would* HYDRA go, exactly?’ His gaze toggling slightly as he thought, mouth slightly open, the soldier became deeply concerned. 

He peered around the corner and, assured that Murphy was busy in the kitchen giving the recovered Ammo a milk bone, Bucky rushed over to the bedroom window and breathed heavily on it, his blistering breath fogging up the glass. He rushed to write a message in the resulting water vapor with his pointer finger, then watched carefully as the vapor evaporated and dried. 

The window appeared just as clean as before – the message was hidden. 

It was a long shot, but he had to try. 

Catching up to Murphy in the kitchen, Bucky stated simply in a rushed manner, “Forty-one days, and, yes, maybe I am marking you,” before threading his metal hand under his shirt and producing his trusty .45 semiautomatic handgun. 

Now, sexism was utterly rampant when Bucky was growing up, and he hadn’t quite caught up on the times nor did he really understand the century’s progress on feminist ideals. “So, I know you don’t know how to use one of these,” he said in a condescending fashion, indicating the .45 pistol in his metal hand, “and normally, I would never let you carry this, so you gotta be careful, but…” 

Bucky’s voice trailed off upon seeing the look on Murphy’s face. 

****

**Murphy** Sprocketgasmask 10/30/2014

Murphy couldn't help the heat rising to her face as he went on her assumed lacking in ability. She scrunched her nose up, brows knitting and gave a soft growl. "I have a 98% accuracy level and I need glasses. If I had glasses and were a bit quicker, I would have snatched your weapon and shot you in the fucking knee cap back at that 'homeless' jab." 

If looks could kill, Bucky would have been dinner. 

"Go on and keep up with that dickish way you talk, dude. I'm my mother's child.”

She switched from that 'horny teenager' to 'ruthless southerner' real fast. It was a gift the women in her family had.

Abandoning the dog (and gun altogether), hand and shoulder trying to wind her with its growing pain, Murphy pushed right past Winter and straight to her own room. She immediately went for the closet, digging through pairs of pants and t-shirts, right arm dangling along for the ride.

Their destination was completely unknown to her and it was safe to simply keep the outfit she already wore and pack her trusty old backpack. 

It didn't take long before the worn thing was holding a single change of clothing and the necessities. Her very first Captain America comic was tucked away. He would sign it for her. There were no ifs ands or buts about it.

A washed-out Harley hoodie was pulled from atop the dresser; her dad wouldn't have minded as long as it stayed in one piece. Maybe Steve would sign that too.

Too many thoughts of Captain America and hands and… skin… and ...and—

"You ready? I'll take that weapon now."

****

 

Music we listened to whilst writing.  
((We do not own these songs. All rights to artists.))  
(M) - Murphy (B) - Bucky

(B) “Sail” by AWOLNATION  
(B) “Gone Away” by The Offspring  
(M) “I Don’t Love You” – My Chemical Romance  
(M) “Hit Me Like A Man” – The Pretty Reckless  
(B) “Green Eyes” – Coldplay  
(B) “Magdalena” – A Perfect Circle  
(M) “Stinkfist” – Tool  
(M) “Thinking of You” – A Perfect Circle  
(M) “Apex Predator” – Otep  
(M) “Rise Rebel Resist” – Otep  
(M) “Magnolia Blvd” – Butcher Babies  
(B) “Save Me” – Shinedown  
(B) “Wait and Bleed” – Slipknot  
(M) “Whore” – In This Moment  
(M) “I don’t want to set the world on fire” – The Ink Spots  
(B) “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree” – Andrews Sisters


End file.
